


To Box It Up and Start Again (everything must go)

by Sanctuaria



Series: Celebrating AoS Season 7 (with angst and hurt/comfort) [20]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dousy lives because Deke sacrificed himself and that is the hill I will die on, F/M, Help, Missing Scene, Season 7 finale, Tiny amounts of fluff, Unrequited Love, also Deke saying goodbye to Nana and Bobo breaks my heart so now I must break yours too, basically a Deke Shaw Appreciation Fic, but like really tiny, oh god the lemons made an appearance again, or just him being a really good friend idk, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/pseuds/Sanctuaria
Summary: Daisy’s still looking at him, her gaze burning into him like a brand. “Deke, that’s…”He can’t let her finish, because he knows if she asks him to, he’ll stay. He’ll find a way to stay. He can’t be the cause of her pain. “And honestly…” He scoffs, trying to clear the wetness from his eyes, the shaking of his voice. He wants this; he’ll swear up and down he does. “I’m kind of a rock god here, anyway.”(Deke says his goodbyes to the team in 7x13.)
Relationships: Deke Shaw & Agents of SHIELD Team, Deke Shaw & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Deke Shaw/Skye | Daisy Johnson (unrequited), Leo Fitz & Deke Shaw & Jemma Simmons, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa
Series: Celebrating AoS Season 7 (with angst and hurt/comfort) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764745
Comments: 52
Kudos: 91





	To Box It Up and Start Again (everything must go)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I lied; obviously if any of you know me, you knew from last time that that Deke angst was totally gonna happen. And look! You were right!
> 
> …I’m becoming predictable and I hate it. 
> 
> Title from the song “Everything Must Go” by Artist Vs Poet.

Fitz stares at him, the computations running behind his eyes. “But s-someone would have to…”

“Stay behind and set it up and turn it on,” Deke finishes for him, the weight of what he’s suggested settling on his shoulders. “Yeah.” His breath hitches. “We have to break up the band.”

“I don’t know if that matters,” says Daisy. She’s standing at Sousa’s side, but her eyes are locked on May, as if begging her—well, Deke doesn’t know exactly what May is to Daisy, but he’d hazard a guess at something between mother and training officer—to _fix this_ , but her voice is already defeated, resigned. “’Cause this…this is the last mission together, isn’t it?” 

They all turn slowly to look at Fitz, the only one with answers. “How could you know that?” he asks.

“Enoch told us,” Jemma pipes up, all too chipper for the words coming out of her mouth. Her mind is still off somewhere, even now that Fitz is back. “Before he died.”

Everyone is quiet, waiting for his reaction. But Fitz doesn’t seem fazed by the news, by the death of his best friend, of the fourth member of their little family. Because he _knows_. He _knew_.

The full implications of what Fitz and Simmons have done, what they have been through hits him like one of Cricket’s soda cans straight to the chest.

How many scenarios of this timeline must they have seen? How many outcomes where things came out differently, where not all of them even made it this far?

“Yeah, that’s true,” Fitz says, speaking slowly, carefully, as if delivering this news in as calm a way as possible will make it any easier to hear. “In fact, no matter what the outcome, this will be the last time we’re all in the same room together.” His eyes close briefly. “…Ever.”

The silence hangs there for a second, and Deke opens his mouth—to say what, he doesn’t really know, but _something_ —

“I’ll stay,” Sousa announces. After a moment of shock, Deke’s eyes flick immediately to Daisy, the crushed look on her face, and the only thing he can think about is how much this will hurt her. “I belong here,” Sousa continues. “I’ve already been given the privilege of a second chance, of meeting all you… _fine people_.” He puts hand on Deke’s shoulder, as if in forgiveness for coming up with this plan, and he knows how much Sousa simply doesn’t get it.

_“Uh, Lincoln Campbell. He…he was the first Inhuman that I became close with. He fought at our side, and he—he died. He died for me, really. Right when we were getting going, or, you know, getting good.”_

_“Which is why I can’t lose anyone else.”_

_I can’t lose anyone else._

Sousa turns to Daisy, taking both of her gauntleted hands in his. “It’s only right. If the Army taught me anything, it’s that…”

Except it’s not right.

It’s not right at all and the last thing Daisy needs is lose someone she cares about again and Deke… Deke can prevent that from happening. He knows how much this will hurt her, how much she fears this, how much she still wakes up terrified in the middle of the night because _“where ever she goes, death follows”_ and _“you can’t just die for me like this, it’s…it’s wrong,”_ and he’s been there, and he _knows_. 

And he also knows that it has to be _someone_ , and that his loss would be the one that would hurt her the least. Who else is there? May, her mother in all but blood, Coulson, her father, her best friends Fitz and Simmons, Mack and Yo-Yo, her partners in crime with years of history between them… Even Sousa, who they’ve only known less than a week, but who has somehow managed to draw out a side of Daisy that is _happy_ and _hopeful_ and _playful_ , a side that looks to the future instead of being mired in the past, a side that Deke has never seen.

Whereas he…he’s the misfit, the one who’s never quite fit in with the rest of the team. Useful and utilized, yes, but never fully accepted, never made part of that _bond_ they all share. Sure, he’s made strides with Nana and Mack and occasionally Daisy but he’s not…one of them. Sousa walked in and made himself at home but it’s not like that for Deke, it’s never been like that in his whole life, and he doesn’t begrudge them that because of it. It’s not them, it’s _him_ , and that just means…he’s not someone they _need_.

Cold, hard certainty steals over him at the thought, his heart hammering in his chest.

But Sousa’s still talking, cradling her hands between them, the look in his eyes gentle and determined and so fucking noble. “It’s that you can’t—”

So he gives him a thumbs-down sign and makes the rudest sound he can think of, “ _Pbbbbbht!_ ,” and hopes it covers up the tremor in his hands and voice as he makes his stand. “ _I’ll_ stay.”

“D,” Mack says from somewhere off to his right, but he presses on, needing to get the words out before they choke him.

“First of all, I’m the one with the scientific knowledge to be able to repatch the power,” Deke points out. “Dannyboy over here is still impressed by a lightbulb.”

“That’s not accurate or nice,” Sousa says.

“And second, it—” He turns toward him. “—it seems like you and Daisy have a real thing going, and I…” He lets out a deep breath, daring to finally make eye contact with Daisy, to see the pain in her eyes. It’s less pain than before, and that both solidifies his resolve and wounds him more than he can say. His voice cracks, his vision blurring slightly, but he can still see her perfectly clearly. He can always see her. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Deke…”

He swallows, turning away to face Fitz. “And third, as long as you reconnect with Nana and then, you know…” He brings his fists together, an utterly strange urge to smile coming to him as the phrase ‘bump lemons’ pops into mind, bringing with it memories of working side by side with her on the Zephyr, just the two of them. “… _connect_ ,” he says instead, for the sake of Sousa’s delicate 1950s sensibilities, “then maybe you’ll see me again someday.”

Daisy’s still looking at him, her gaze burning into him like a brand. “Deke, that’s…”

He can’t let her finish, because he knows if she asks him to, he’ll stay. He’ll find a way to stay. He can’t be the cause of her pain. “And honestly…” He scoffs, trying to clear the wetness from his eyes, the shaking of his voice. He wants this; he’ll swear up and down he does. “I’m kind of a rock god here, anyway.”

* * *

The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents flit around him in the speakeasy, eager to help as they reconnect wires and solder parts and jump out of the way of bursts of sparks, but are generally limited by their, well, 1983 ways of thinking. Still though, it only takes them another hour to get connected to the New York City power grid in a way that he and Bobo are _pretty_ sure won’t get them blown up.

“We can connect these last few,” a voice says from behind him, a woman with red streaks through her hair. He thinks her name is Victoria. “You should say your goodbyes.”

Something clenches in his chest. _Goodbyes_.

“I’ll do that,” he nods, handing her the soldering iron and stepping back. Looking around, he spots Simmons lingering out of the way in one of the corners, Yo-Yo glancing back to keep an eye on her every few seconds, but his Nana is entirely engrossed in counting the knots in the wood panels making up the wall.

“Oak,” she says when he reaches her, the corners of her lips tugged slightly upward by the discovery. “ _Quercus lobatae_. Native to North America, Central America, and—”

“That’s great, Nana.” Deke swallows, and wishes she was more _here_ for this. He doesn’t even know if she’ll remember it, after he’s gone. “Listen, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” she questions, turning to him with her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like we decided a bit ago,” he reminds her gently. “I’m going to stay here, and you all are going to go home.”

“Home…” she ponders, going spacey for a moment. “Do you like the stars?”

A lump grows in his throat. It’s no use; even if this is the last time he’ll ever get to see her, he can’t reach the Nana he knows. “Yeah,” Deke says instead, eyes wet. “Yeah, I was born there, actually.” Or in a quaked-apart bit of Earth, but close enough.

“I think I left something there. Something important.” She smiles at him. “The stars are beautiful, Deke.”

_At least she remembers his name._ He nods. “They are.”

Simmons steps forward and grips his arm suddenly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Nana…”

“I don’t know the others,” she says, looking up at him with big brown eyes. “I just know you.”

“You do know them,” he promises. “You can trust them. Math…math may be your faithful husband, but your other husband is right there—” He nods toward Fitz. “—and he’s going to take care of you once I’m gone.”

“Math is a good husband,” Jemma says, looking a little affronted. “Very reliable. And I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Deke says, a small laugh bubbling out of him against his will. “I know you can because you did such a good job taking care of me, when I came back from the future. I don’t know if you’ll even remember this when you get all your memories back, but…I wanted to tell you. To thank you. For accepting me, and being patient with me, and being family when I thought I had none. I love you, Nana.”

Simmons affixes him with an intense gaze for a minute, and he mentally prepares himself for whatever scrap her currently scrambled brain can provide, even if it is about the eating habits of cuttlefish. But she hugs him instead, and Deke melts into it, holding onto her with all his might.

“Jemma!” Yo-Yo’s low voice calls just as they pull apart, and the Inhuman arrives at their sides a moment later. “Coulson wants you to have a look at May before we leave, if you’re able, check for injuries.”

“Of course,” Simmons says, sounding for a moment like her old self again. Then her eyebrow lifts. “Which one’s May again?”

Elena points her out, then stands next to Deke watching her go. “Will she be all right?”

“That’s a question for Bobo, but I think so,” he replies. “If it was unexpected or permanent, I would expect him to be freaked out about it. More Scottish, and yelling, and stuff.”

Yo-Yo smiles. “True.” She eyes him. “So this is goodbye.”

He’s suddenly struck by how little he knows about her, how few conversations they’ve had together. But all that doesn’t seem to matter when she reaches for her hand. “It’s only 1983. You can change things.” Elena looks him square in the eyes, reminding him of their brief moment on the Zephyr, him fresh from Freddy Malick’s clutches and his first-hand brush with the status quo. “Make it better. Make it a better world than we had.”

“I’ll try,” he says. He turns to Mack next, who’s appeared at Yo-Yo’s shoulder, but he shakes his head.

“We’ll say our goodbyes on the Zephyr, Agent Shaw.”

“You got it, Director,” he replies back in kind. Mack nods him toward where Sousa is waiting, obviously wanting to speak with him, leaning slightly on his right leg as if he’s still not entirely used to trusting his left yet. Well, that’s good. Deke wants to talk to him too.

“Hey,” the man says as he approaches, stepping forward to meet him. “Thank you. For being willing to…for taking my place.”

Taking a deep breath, Deke squares his jaw. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Ex—” Sousa just looks confused, non-comprehending. “Excuse me?”

“Daisy,” Deke says, and then stops, because he doesn’t know how to explain this without violating her confidence, or the sanctity of nightmares late at night. “Daisy’s been hurt,” he decides on, because that’s just vague enough to go on.

“Yeah, Mack said,” Sousa says. “I don’t—I would never hurt her; I told him that.”

“But you almost did.” He searches for the right words, trying to make him understand. “People leave, always. Or they…or they sacrifice themselves for her, and they die. And you think that making that sacrifice so she doesn’t have to is helping her, but it’s not that simple with Daisy, with what she’s been through in the past. Because leaving her behind, or dying for her, she has to live with that afterward.”

“I get what you’re saying,” Sousa assures him. “I do. But millions of lives—this entire _timeline_ was at stake.”

“And you were first in line to save it,” Deke replies. As far as he’s concerned, anyone who would even think to put Daisy through that kind of pain again— _“Sounds like you were really in love with this guy” ”I kinda still am”_ —is a douchecanoe, but that word isn’t particularly helpful in this scenario. Probably because he’d have to explain what it meant, and also because, as Deke forcibly reminds himself, Sousa didn’t know about Daisy’s past history with people sacrificing themselves yet.

The other man stares at him, a faint line creasing his forehead. “That’s part of who I am.”

Deke shrugs his shoulders slightly. “Then that’s a conversation you need to have with Daisy. ‘Cause next time I won’t be here to save her from losing someone she cares about again.”

Sousa pauses, silence that probably lasts no more than a second stretching long between them. “Thank you,” he says finally, sincerity in his eyes and maybe a little additional respect too. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Sorry if that was harsh, I just…I just want her to be happy,” Deke repeats, because he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t the recurring mantra going through his head right now. “Oh, and buy her lemons.”

“Lemons?”

“It’s some weird 21st century thing,” Deke tells him, with no trouble keeping a straight face. “You want to court someone, you buy them lemons. Like flowers in your day, I guess.”

“Huh,” Sousa says, clearly mulling over the oddities of the 21st century. And, well, Deke didn’t _lie_ , it is a 21st century thing, just not _early_ 21st century. Maybe the joke will make Daisy smile when he’s gone. “Thanks, I’ll do that.” He holds out his hand, and Deke shakes it before beginning to look for the next available member of the team, knowing he’s running out of time.

“And Deke…” Sousa interrupts. There’s an all-too perceptive sharpness to his gaze. “She cares about you too.”

He nods, giving him a tight smile as Sousa is thankfully called away by Mack. Deke takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then turns around to find himself face to face with Melinda May. He gulps.

“She does, you know,” May says, face impassive as she moves her chin ever so slightly in Daisy’s direction, where she’s standing speaking in soft tones to Simmons. “I can feel it.”

“…I know.”

May narrows her eyes. “And I can feel your pain as well.”

Deke makes a small scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “I wouldn’t call it _pain_ …”

“I would.” The woman considers him for a moment. “I know exactly why you’re doing this, and what you’re sacrificing.” Her eyes slide to Simmons, Fitz, the family he’d never thought he’d have again after his mom and dad were killed. “And what you think of yourself.” She beckons him a little closer, expression softening. “You _are_ a part of this team, Deke. So thank you…for your sacrifice.”

“That’s from both of us,” Coulson adds, coming up behind her. “You’re a good agent…and a good man.”

“Now go and talk to her,” May says pointedly.

“I wasn’t going to leave without saying goodbye,” Deke huffs. 

The corner of May’s mouth turns upward, a strange glint in her eye. “I know you weren’t.”

So, with leaden steps, Deke goes. Daisy spots him coming over Simmons’s shoulder and excuses herself, walking toward him with her hands tugging at the wrist-plates of her gauntlets. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. It’s my choice,” Deke tells her.

“Thank you.” Her dark brown eyes are wide, earnest. “Seriously, Deke—thank you.” She touches his arm, the tips of her fingers ghosting across his skin. “Are you _sure_ you’ll be okay?”

He’s not sure at all, but that’s not what she needs to hear. Absolving her of this guilt, lessening her trauma, that’s been the entire point of this venture, and what’s one last lie as they say goodbye, if it can save her from all of that? “Yeah,” he says, mustering all of his believability. He’s lied his way out of certain death from the Blues on more occasions than he’d like to remember; he can do _this_. “Yeah, I have friends here, and—” Friends who became S.H.I.E.L.D. agents because of him, friends who may now be dead in the Chronicom purge and he doesn’t even know. “—and, you know me. I’m good at adapting to new time periods, new places, new people.” Deke forces his lips into a smile. “I’ll be okay, Daisy.”

He can see in her eyes that he may not have fooled her completely—she’s much too empathetic for that, one of the reasons that first attracted him to her—but he can also see in her eyes how much she _wants_ to. Daisy reaches for him, pulls him into a hug. Her gauntlets are hard against his back but he breathes in deeply, trying to memorize the moment—friendship and acceptance and gratitude and belonging and _Daisy_ , who doesn’t even exist in this timeline—and the embrace lasts for longer than he expects, her still holding tight when he moves to pull respectfully away. “We’ll miss you,” Daisy says quietly, right before she releases him, and it hurts, it hurts so much, that that’s what he wants to hear most of all.

He nods, his eyes thanking her in words he cannot say.

“Deke!” Bobo’s voice calls him away, and Daisy gives his hand one last squeeze with half-gloved fingers before he’s standing in front of Fitz. “Think we’re just about finished,” the Scot tells him. “Should work.”

“‘Course it’ll work,” Deke says, a slight hitch in his throat. He points to his own head. “FitzSimmons brain, remember?”

“I remember,” Fitz nods. He looks to the side, where Jemma is standing engrossed in the wall paneling again. “And someday, she will too.”

“That’s—that’s good.”

“I saw a lot of timelines,” Fitz told him, still watching Jemma, “a lot of possible futures. And in every single one, you were right there with her, on the Zephyr, working by her side…sometimes even to the end.”

“There’s nowhere else I would rather have been,” Deke tells him truthfully, his voice hoarse. “I’m glad I got the time with her—with both of you—that I did.”

“She’s proud of you,” he says. “Even if she can’t tell you right now, she is.” The lump in Deke’s throat returns with a vengeance—or did it ever really go away?—but Fitz isn’t finished. “And I am too.”

“Bobo…”

“Don’t cry on me,” Fitz warns.

Deke blinks, startled into a half-laugh. “I won’t.” His grandfather pulls him into an unexpected hug, clapping his hand across his back. Fitz releases him after about a second and a half, but doesn’t step back all the way, glancing around again.

“Her name was Alya, wasn’t it?” he asks in a low voice, and Deke knows these words are for him, and him alone. He nods jerkily, the beginnings of hope stirring in his stomach. Fitz meets his eyes, untold years in space hidden within them. “I w-wish you could have met her.”

“I did meet her,” Deke whispers, understanding what he is telling him, the wonder and joy of it. The secret Jemma has been keeping all this time without even knowing it, the secret Enoch would—and had—killed to protect. “ _And she was perfect._ ”

Fitz nods, his eyes shining. “She is.” Then he steps back, turning to face Mack, who is swiftly approaching from the side.

“Fitz, Deke,” Mack says, the rest of the motley group gathering around them. “It’s finished, minus the final connections that have to be done when everyone’s in position. We’re ready to go.”

“Chronicoms incoming,” Coulson says.

“Less than ten minutes.”

_“No matter what the outcome, this will be the last time we’re all in the same room together.”_

Deke stands in the midst of them for the last time. His team. _Family_.

Then he raises his voice, calling on tech CEO Deke Shaw and lead singer Deke Shaw and even the Deke Shaw from the Lighthouse, brash and bold and just so happy to be living in a timeline with sunshine, never mind people he cares about and who care about him. Because _he can do this_.

“All right, come on, people, let’s load it up then. Let’s go, let’s go; keep it snappy! We’re running out of time!”

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback appreciated :)


End file.
